Fresh Blood
by Harlequin-Istic
Summary: Eleanore and her life. So, it's messed up. Then she meets a boy. A new victim.. or is she?


It was the combination of bright sunlight peeking through the curtains and someone's mobile ringing endlessly that woke Eleanore Kalvin Greene from her alcohol-induced slumber.

She had passed out the night before in a mass of other bodies on the floor of some person's house. Most of them were either naked or only partly clothed. Luckily, Eleanore had managed to retain some dignity by remaining in her skirt and black lace bra. Somehow she was wearing a tie that hadn't been there when she'd arrived at the house party.

She slapped away some one's hand that lay across her stomach and struggled to her feet.

"Fuck." She moaned and pressed a cold hand to her throbbing forehead. Why the hell did she have Alcopops? She knew what they did to her.

She stumbled her way through the numerous unconscious bodies that were strewn across the house, which was trashed. No suprises there. Eleanore managed to locate most of her belongings and donned a pair of black sunglasses she'd found conveniently placed on the table by the front door. Her eyes weren't prepared for the pain sunlight brought. Her head hurt like a bitch, and it was sunny today.

What, no overcast?

She slipped on her stilettos and began the long trek home. It wasn't long before she realised her phone was ringing. She pulled it roughly from her clutch bag and, without a glance at the caller ID, flipped it open and pressed it to her ear.

"What?" Eurgh, her voice was all hoarse and her throat felt like she'd swallowed a whole load of gravel. Maybe she had. She didn't remember a thing about what had happened last night.

Of course, there was a cure for this. She retrieved a bottle of water from her bag and took a sip, while also locating the packet of cigarettes that lay at the bottom of her bag.

Lighting the cigarette that she'd just pushed between her plush lips, she rolled her eyes at her older brother's voice. Oh man, words. No.

"Shush. Stop talking. Fuck off." She growled. Even her own voice was beginning to hurt her head. "Actually no, you can come and get me. And bring painkillers. Now."

She shut the phone without waiting for his response and slumped quite gracefully onto a bench nearby.

It was far too long before her older brother, Alex, showed up in her car. The nerve.

"Get out, I'm driving." She snapped, pulling open the driver's door and yanking him from the car. Ignoring his laughter, she settled herself in the driver's seat.

"Did you bring me painkillers or not?" Without a thank you, she snatched the box from his hand and downed three.

She sped out of the street and started to drive in the direction of their house. It was in the nicer part of town, and it was one of the nicest houses there, proving that having a rich stepdad did have some perks even if he was an asshole.

As soon as she parked on the driveway, she saw her brother's mouth opening for a lecture, no doubt.

"Not a fucking word." She held up her hand, stopping him in his tracks.

Eleanore cut the the engine and entered the house quietly.

Suddenly the stepdad sprang up from out of nowhere and began to shout at her. She zoned out till near the end.

"A disgrace to our family.... Out every night!... Mother was crying all night. ...Worried sick." Blah, blah, blah.

"Just shut up Paul, would you?" She walked to her room, her head pounding all the way.

A couple of minutes after lying her bed face down and she got a text. It was from Kat. She read the text and sent her reply. Realising she needed a shower she went into her ensuite and had a wash.

She left her waist-length black hair to dry itself and smudged eyeliner around her dark brown eyes.

Unlike most, Eleanore never took long to get ready. She was naturally beautiful and had a blemish-free complexion, so she only ever wore eyeliner and lipstick.

She threw on an Audrey Kitching tee, black shorts and black stiletto sneakers.

As usual, she came out looking like a punk rock goddess. She went downstairs to the kitchen for a granola bar.

Paul was on the phone and her mother was making pancakes. Probably for her freak of nature little brother, Hayden.

She sat down at the breakfast bar and unwrapped the snack.

"Yes, thank you. She'll be there. 3pm. No problem. Thank you. Good day."

Her interest spiked up a couple of notches. Who were they talking about?

"Well, young lady, you can tell your friends that you'll be busy after schools on Monday, wednesday and friday till 9pm from now on."

He smiled. Bastard.

"What the fuck? Why?"

"Language, child! You're attending a class to help kick your addiction to partying. No more shenanigans for you and more worrying where you are for us."

"I'm not _addicted._ I'm 17! You can't do this!"

"Done and done."

"Wanker."

Eleanore kicked the metal bin over and threw the fruit bowl on the floor in a fit of anger. Then she strode out of the house, swiping another pack of cigarettes on the way.

She was lighting her sixth one when she met her friends.

With them was a boy, a very good-looking boy. Eleanore smiled, in spite of her domestic troubles, and strode towards them.

They all stood, like super heroes, she was just waiting for capes to spring out and 'billow' out behind them.

"Elle." Kat hugged her tightly as a greeting.

Eleanore just nodded. She wasn't one for showing warmth in public. She gestured silently towards the newcomer.

"Oh, him? That's Cole. Hey Cole! Come say hi!" Kat waved towards the boy and he rose from the swings, walking towards them.

Close-up, Eleanore could see that he had blue eyes and pale blonde hair with a muscular frame.

_This could get interestin_g, she thought with amusement.

"Hey." He smiled.


End file.
